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Fragment From A Journal

I’m an ageing hippie stuck in a sixties time-warp; when everyone else gave up I just kept on rolling…..and rolling…..and rolling….

“I am at a complete loss for words” is as much of a contradiction in terms as is the meaning of the word `monosyllabic` he thought, astounding himself by his remarkable power of reasoning despite the fact that he was utterly stoned.

“What remarkable felicity is this that allows of such genius; genius to rival Freud and Milligoon” he mused, musing as he did so, `if the cap fits, it's a miracle!”

Another gobsmacking original from the originator of the famed `Ravings’, he mused on ` “Indeed it looks like a full loon tonight…….”

This is the morning of the evening before which was memorably mellow in tone and magical in recall. The air was warm, the atmosphere sultry, almost tropical. I remarked to Jason the Druid as we returned home down Moor Lane in the twilight that; “this is just like a Mediterranean night in late September, - although I’ve known it like this in southern Spain during October and November too”.

I had wondered lonely as a clown that floats on high oe’r vales and hills when all at once I came upon a joint-bearing Jason, - and we sat together under the stars watching the lights in the far distance brighten as night began to fall around us and an almost full egg-shaped moon rose behind us in the southern sky. Partially eclipsed by the high feathered canopy of whispy clouds which floated around her, the Queen of Heaven wore a diaphanous gossamer gown crowned with shimmering light from within, we moon bathed as we gazed at the silhouette of darkening hills.